


Slade/Robin Weekend 2020

by Irishgrlnextdoor



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Chapter 3 includes:, Churches & Cathedrals, Confessional, Dirty Talk, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, M/M, Priest Kink, Rape, Rough Sex, SladeRobin Week, SladeRobin Week 2020, Suggestive Themes, Triggers, Unedited we die like min, Violence, chapter 2 includes:, sladerobinminievent, sladerobinweekend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23810062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irishgrlnextdoor/pseuds/Irishgrlnextdoor
Summary: Three Days, Three Themes, Three ChaptersRating to go up for next 2 chapters.Day 1: Highest Bidder; Dick is participating in a bachelor auction when Slade shows upDay 2: Earth 3/ kidnapping: Slade has kidnapped Talon Richard from Earth-3 and no one knowsDay 3: Dick+Jason+Slade: au Slade is a Catholic priest, and his favorite thing about Father Wayne's church are always his two eldest alter boys.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 157
Collections: SladeRobin Weekend 2020





	1. The Winning Bid

No warnings apply

* * *

Dick preened in front of the little mirror afforded to them in the back room. The bachelor auction took place every year, and as usual, Bruce had asked for the cooperation of his oldest. The charity was a good one. The Gotham library had been partially caught in a blast explosion from a gang-war before Batman was able to stop it. It needed rebuilding and extra funding to expand their community outreach programs to the at-risk kids.

As Dick straightened his tie and flashed the vapid but charming smile that Bruce had helped him to perfect for his civilian persona, he caught sight of the man himself in the reflection. Bruce met his eyes in the mirror as he stepped up behind him, Dick’s suit jacket in hand. “Finish up, we still have a few minutes to mingle before the auction starts. I want you to pay attention to the ones with deep pockets this time, not just the trust-fund kids that catch your eye. Ms. Chaddington has always found you amusing. She falls into bidding wars easily once she starts.”

Dick kept the wince off his face, but barely. “Ms. Chaddington… so I’m the sacrificial lamb this year?”

Bruce pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes in a way that was very batman for a moment. “It was me last year. Tag, you’re it, old chum.” With that last part the batman melted completely away and that stern scowl stretched and relaxed into an airy smile that was 100% Brucey Wayne, ditzy playboy extraordinaire, merely out for a night of vanity and showing off in both image and wealth. He helped Dick slip into his jacket and gave him a light pat on the back.

If batman had ever done that Dick would have thought something was seriously wrong, but Bruce slipped so deep into his personas that it somehow seemed so natural despite Dick knowing better. “Shake a leg, Dickie-lad.”

Dick slipped on his own persona as easily as he had his jacket with Bruce’s guidance, grinning wide and following him out.

At least half of Gotham’s most opulent families were in attendance, and Dick serpentine his way through several of them, shaking hands and cracking jokes, dropping flirty winks wherever he could. He had some vague awareness of Brucey doing the same on the other side of the room, working their way back. Dick even managed to find Ms. Chaddington, whom was already quite plastered and only barely keeping herself composed in any way. She swayed dangerously with each movement, and her words were slurred and went up and down in volume without cause. She nearly spilled her champagne on Dick when she turned to face him, and he almost wished she had just so she wouldn’t have more to drink. “Dickie darling! I heard you were partici- partiptip- joining in this year again. Everyone, you know Dickie darling, don’t you? The circus boy that Brucey brought home after that unfortunate hiccup.”

Dick stiffened, but kept a strangle-hold on his persona to keep himself from putting one on Ms. Chaddington for her choice of words. As if his parents being murdered was a ‘hiccup’ rather than a travesty. A hiccup was being five minutes late to a movie. His smile was so tight he was grinding teeth. “Ms. Chaddington, I hope you plan on participating again this year as well, Bruce was just speaking to me about your win last year. I hope your sights aren’t set on him alone,” he rambled off with a well-placed wink.

Ms. Chaddington’s brow lifted a bit in surprise before her face cracked wide open in a charmed laugh, shaking enough that she did indeed spill a bit of her wine. “Oh you precious boy, you wouldn’t begin to be able to handle a woman like me!” she reached out and pinched his cheek, a bit harder than she probably meant to. “You are awfully cute though. Itellyouwhat, Dickie Darling,” she slurred, “I’ll make sure to at least start the bids for you.”

He couldn’t feel too disappointed at the brushoff. Relieved, if anything. he had tried and Bruce couldn’t accuse otherwise. He snatched her hand when she reached for his other cheek to pinch, stopping her with a quick and suave kiss to the back of her knuckle and a quick word of thanks before moving off to further mingle.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted him. The tall stature, the white hair, and the eyepatch stood out in the room so sharply as soon as he saw him that he was shocked he hadn’t noticed Slade Wilson was there sooner. What was he doing in Gotham? Better question, what was he doing _here_? Dressed up in a nice black suit and sipping on a flute of red wine. Was he working? Doing recon? Dick beelined for him, keeping his smile fixed like a Halloween mask, despite the directness of his approach. “What are you doing here?”

Slade turned and the glance he gave him was one of mock surprise to see him. As if there was even the slimmest chance Slade was surprised when both Bruce and Dick had received special advertisement for this event. Plus, it was Gotham. “Richard, fancy running into you here.”

“Stuff it,” Dick gritted out through his tight smile, tone hard despite his expression suggesting otherwise. “What are you doing here Slade?”

Slade lifted his glass of wine as if it was some sort of proof of innocence. “I came as a friend to the library, same as you. I’m always open to a worthy cause, especially when there are items of rarity on auction.”

Dick’s face flared red, he could feel the heat as it flushed through him. “You can’t be serious.”

Slade merely sipped from his glass once more, one brow quirking as if Dick was being cute.

Dick had to fight very hard not to snarl. “I’ll save you both your time and money right now then, Mr. Wilson. No matter how much money you spend tonight, you won’t be getting a date from me.”

Slade merely shrugged, lip quirking up just a little more at the corner. “Duly noted, never lose your generous spirit, Grayson. It’s one of your best features.”

Dick huffed through his nose, turning to stomp away, but not before he heard the man say as he turned his back to him, “And there’s your other one.”

The auction started up, and Dick was the first in the lineup for bachelors. Such was usually the case. Bruce tended to empty pockets as Gotham’s most eligible bachelor every year, so he was saved for the tail end when the giving would start to get stingy. Dick was great to start a bachelor auction because he could engage the crowd and draw in some generous on-a-whim bets to keep the atmosphere light.

He stepped out on the stage they had set up, the auctioneer giving his brief intro. It gained giggles and applause from some of the younger women present when it was read that Dickie Grayson’s turn-ons included hot showers and curling up to watch Disney movies together. The bidding started and it was quiet at first as everyone waited for someone else to break the ice and kick off the night. Dick smiled wide to hide a cringe when Ms. Chaddington kept her word to him.

“Six-hundred, for Dickie darling!” she giggled.

After that a few more bets were made by various others, and the overall crowd relaxed into the fun of it, especially as Dick started posturing, pacing and posing charmingly in his little section of the stage. The whole time he tried to find Slade in the crowd, wanting to at least keep an eye on the mercenary crashing the party. He didn’t find him until Slade’s voice rose up in a bid, freezing the blood in Dick’s veins. Dick followed his voice, and realized he stood just a person away from Mrs. Chaddington. “One-thousand.”

Dick saw him glance to Ms. Chaddington, of all people, and give her an unprecedented smirk that was all too smug. They couldn’t know each other, surely?

She picked up on his smugness right away, meeting this newcomer’s light taunting with a scowl.

It was a surprise to Dick when she actually raised her number once more to show him up. “One-thousand five.”

She sent him back a downcast look, nose high in the air as she swayed on her feet, gripping tighter her drink.

A few more bets were place around them, but Dick missed them, focus on Slade and Chaddington because their attentions were locked on each other, not even noticing him. What the hell was going on?

Slade barely even glanced to the stage when he smirked and called out “Two thousand.”

“Five thousand,” Chaddington immediately followed up, the sudden jump pulling gleeful cheers from the audience. Ms.Chaddingly puffed up under that response, chin lifting as if the matter had been settled.

She hadn’t even wanted him, had she? And Slade…

It came back to Dick then that Bruce had told him she got pulled easily into bidding wars. Slade was obviously dogging her into one. Dick couldn’t imagine for what purpose, however.

He was starting to sweat a little under the collar when Slade gave an easy shrug at the woman who was side-eyeing him and raised his own number again. “Six.”

“Seven!” Someone else called out, caught up in the spirit. Before Dick could even try to find them Slade was calling eight, and then tossing a very self-satisfied smile Ms. Chaddington’s way.

“Ten-thousand!” she jumped again.

There was a chorus of cheers and applause for her unprecedented generosity.

Slade looked as if her wide grin actually annoyed him, a bitter expression biting across his face in a way that was so out of character to Dick before he made what seemed to be a rash bid of his own. “Twenty thousand dollars.”

It was met with silence. Shock and awe and silence. It was hardly the numbers that Bruce would pull in, but the jumps and the high figures this early in the bidding were dramatic enough to stun the crowd for a moment before more applause collected.

Slade lifted his chin high and even Dick caught it from all the way up on stage, having fallen still long ago when the auctioneer started taking last calls on the bet and Slade mouthed to the woman, “I guess that just about settles it then.”

“Twenty-thousand going once… Going twice… Alright then I guess-

“Twenty-thousand and Five!” Ms. Chaddington growled out, spilling more of her drink with how firmly her number thrust in the air, although there was a moment of clarity immediately after in which the regret was apparent in her eyes.

She hadn’t even wanted Dick. Not this Dick anyway.

Dick knew she would let the next bid go. She was done. Momentarily caught up, but now the spell was broken for her.

Except…

“Twenty-thousand Five-hundred going once… twice… Sold, to Ms. Chaddington for $20,500. Let’s all give a big round of applause for her folks! The library thanks everyone for their generosity, and remember, there’s more bachelors to come so don’t go anywhere.”

Dick was supposed to leave the stage, but he was following that last order better than anyone. Slade hadn’t bid on him. He had stared Dick right in the eye the entire time, and had let the bid go. Let someone else win him. Dick continued to stand there, still confused and dumbfounded, and… maybe his nose was just a bit tweaked by this turn of events. He had warned Slade to save his money. He hadn’t wanted Slade to actually win his bid.

Why did it leave him feeling so legless when Slade merely offered him a final condescending smirk and turned away, taking his leave for the night?

Dick watched him go until the doors closed behind the man’s broad retreating back, conflicted over his own conflictions.

X

Jason leaned against the cool stone arch of one of the gargoyles that overlooked the city, letting his fried egg burger rest of the statue’s head between messy bites. He wasn’t left waiting for long, knowing as soon as the older man joined him on the rooftop. A part of him knew it was because Slade wasn’t trying to sneak up on him at all. Sometimes they played that game with each other. It was practically the favorite game of all supers and villains and those in between to sneak in and out of each other’s presence, both to hone their skills and also just for the fun of it.

Jason turned to offer a half-hearted scowl to the older man. “You’re late.”

“Ten minutes,” Slade dismissed. “I had to stay to watch his face.”

Jason could forgive when that was the excuse. He would have paid a lot of money to see it himself. He could imagine. Money hadn’t been the price given for tonight, however, and he turned to face Slade more fully, still sitting upon the back of his favorite gargoyle. He held out the other wrapped burger in offering. “Alright then, I got dinner for us, as agreed.”

Slade’s smile softened just a bit, strolling across the rooftop in his armor, helmet tucked under his arm. He let it drop next to the red one Jason had set aside so they could enjoy their date.

Jason had been shocked when Slade had named that as his price for his appearance tonight to locate Ms. Chaddington and engage in a bidding war against her over Dick, backing down only when he was certain she wouldn’t bet again.

For Slade, it had been a surprising proposal from the younger bat. He had felt it deserved a surprising price. Even more surprising when Jason had readily agreed to it.

Jason pulled the sandwich back, just a bit cheeky, when Slade reached for it, eyes alight. “How bad do you think it pissed him off that you didn’t end up winning in the end?” he pressed, ready to relish the answer.

Slade let out a snort of soft amusement. “You must really love fucking with your brother.”

“Goldie? Hell yeah I do. Especially when it’s for a really good cause. The library will appreciate his sacrifice almost as much as I do. As far as I see it, my bid in all this was the winning one.”

Slade took the sandwich given to him then, and leaned against the stone statue next to Jason as he took another bite of his own.

Slade couldn’t have been more amused with the events of the night, but he disagreed that Jason was the one who won in the end. He felt that honor went to him as he settled in next to the man to enjoy himself.


	2. Talon Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade has Kidnapped Richard, just not the one from his own world. Talon Richard Grayson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer, not my best work, also not my worst, but I could have been a lot happier with it than I am. Tags updated for this chapter, rape, violence, unhappy ending, triggers, rough sex  
> Abduction/kidnapping or Earth 3
> 
> Kinda both. Not Cannon compliant if you’re familiar with the Crisis Comics at all.

The worlds coming together and ripping apart once more had been the greatest crisis either had ever faced, but Slade had found it surprisingly… profitable. The heros of this Earth had been battered and bruised to varying degrees, their losses numerous. Such was the plight of being a hero. As this world’s Dick Grayson had once said to him. ‘It sucks to suck.’

He found more validation than ever before for the choices he had made in his life upon this Earth, having taken the opportunity to do something very un-heroic. Villainous, really. But he had no regrets. How could he, considering the souvenir he had snatched away for himself from Earth 3.

Slade had kept a very low profile ever since the crisis came to a conclusion nearly two months ago, keeping himself contained in one of his most expansive hideouts. Well, not just himself of course. Slade checked the live-feed monitor to make sure there hadn’t been an escape, no trap laying in wait for him as he pressed his palm against the security pad and then entered in the numeric code. There hadn’t been for quite some time, but it was always good to be sure.

The door gave a pressurized hiss, and then slid back to allow him entry into the small room.

His prize, smuggled off the other world after everyone had presumed him dead, waited passively upon the bed he had been given. It was progress. For the first month Richard- also known as Talon, had tried his best to ambush Slade every time that door so much as cracked open beyond the tiny slot in the center for food. The learning process had been rigorous for them both, but the progress had been made none the less. With no other masters remaining, Richard was slowly adapting to a new one.

“Talon, stand,” Slade ordered, watching as Richard swiftly rose to his feet, still far more responsive to being called ‘Talon’ than any other name despite the scorn that flashed in those golden eyes, just a little ring of blue around the edges of the iris.

Much like his counterpart here in this world, he hated being made to wait and sit still. Unlike this world’s Richard, however, doing so had been hard-taught to him by Thomas. It wasn’t the only difference they held. There were little differences, such as the sadistic streak a mile wide if the younger man was given a target or outlet for it, or the heightened aggressiveness both in sparring and when there was something he wanted but was denied. None of this was anything Slade took issue with, in fact he saw potential in it. Best of all in this Richard, he wasn’t full of Bruce’s false ideals about killing.

He looked exactly like the Richard of this world, whom Slade had long fought and coveted in almost equal measure, but was already leaps and bounds ahead in terms of usefulness to Slade.

This Richard’s golden eyes narrowed upon him in suspicion, but a decidedly unbalanced little smile curled his lips as he drew still. “Time for my exercise?”

Sometimes Slade would take him out to the training room to spar, or lord over hours of intense fitness regiments and gymnastics. This wasn’t one of those times, this was another special visit. “Undress.”

The smile thinned, just the slightest bit. There was no confusion or outrage in his eyes, merely understanding and then somewhat bitter resignation. “So, yes then.”

Slade didn’t engage the flat mockery, and Richard pulled the sweatshirt over his head obediently, and then slipped out of the matching sweatpants he had been given.

Slade allowed his gaze to roam as the man before him fell still once more, task carried out. he was beautiful, his body a work of art, but there was an allure in the deadliness he carried. So much like the Richard of Slade’s Earth… but even better, and no one in either world even knew he was missing. To his own he was thought to be dead, and to this one he did not even exist. He was all Slade’s, and they both knew that.

Slade allowed his gaze to wander, to assess and appreciate in equal measure, closing the door behind him. It hissed with another lock.

Richard kept that golden gaze upon him, tense, but not fighting. Not yet. They had done this dance serval times over, so Slade knew he would, but he also knew how it would end.

Slade dared to reach out, trailing his fingertips along the younger man’s collarbone, down his chest and brushing over the nipple that was starting to harden into a little bud thanks to the chill. Or perhaps the chill was merely coincidental.

It was when Slade started to pinch at it that Richard shivered, and then moved. Lightening quick, he grabbed Slade’s wrist. Slade grabbed his own with his free hand to stop his attempt to twist it off or break it, but Richard was ready for that. He kicked up before Slade could note the shift in his balance, and his bare foot caught Slade under the chin hard enough to rattle his teeth. Dick tried to take advantage, trying to drop down to hit up into Slade’s solar plexus. Slade wasn’t having it, and he didn’t come here to spar. He grabbed Richard’s shoulder and jerked him forward as he drove his knee up into his stomach. The air rushed out of him, and his body curled reflexively. Slade took advantage of that curl, driving his elbow down hard enough on the man’s back to stun the nerves of his spine and drop him to the ground. As Grayson struggled to breathe, struggled to move at all, Slade gripped his sides and spun him around on the ground so that his ass was angled towards him rather than his head.

Richard made a low noise in the back of his throat, but it was garbled and impossible to tell if it was anger or despair. Slade placed his hand on the base of Richard’s spine, touch as firm as his voice, “Be still, Talon.”

There were minute jerks as the nerves tried to sort themselves out and different pain points set in, but he indeed fell still as much as he was able to comply with the order. Thomas had taught him so well.

Slade pet over the man’s back in approval, hand trailing down over of the gorgeous curve of his ass cheek. “Plant your hands, keep them on the floor.” He hardly gave the man the chance to comply, which he did, before gripping those hips more firmly and lifting them up high enough that Richard had to stand on his feet rather than kneel. He would have been standing, anyway, if he hadn’t kept his hands on the ground.

The angle was awkward and would quickly become uncomfortable for the younger man. Slade tucked his hips in close against the raised ass, grinding against it just a bit, putting all of Talon’s balance upon his hands rather than his legs, which merely served to keep his ass propped up at this point. With his ass raised like this, the butt of the plug Slade had left in him the night before was on full display, and his fingers twitched to yank it out cruelly. They brushed against it at least, drawing more soft whimpers and growls from the man. It was a good enough angle for Slade to make it work, and it would make it a lot harder for Richard to counter attack in any way, at least fast enough that Slade couldn’t block it or feel it coming through the telling muscle flexes from this close.

“Be still now Talon, if you do that then I won’t have to make this really hurt.”

He was answered with another growl, but the muscles under his touch relaxed at the same time, defeat setting in.

Slade toyed with the plug a little more, pressing upon the base and wiggling it around until Richard started to squirm despite the order, blood all rushing to his head. As Slade teased the plug, he released his own cock from his slacks, letting it rest against the presented ass in front of him. “Your old master already had you trained for this sort of handling. It was obvious from the first time I had you. Why do you fight me when it’s clear you enjoy it? Did you fight him? Is it habit? Or is it out of some misplaced concept of loyalty towards your old master?”

Richard growled at the questioning, but refused to answer. Slade was only mildly curious, so he didn’t press it. There were far more interesting things to press, and he did just that at the plug’s base.

When Richard’s growls turned to soft whimpers once more as it was worked around in him, Slade started to pull it free, watching the asshole yawn around it as more and more of the wide plug was pulled out. His own cock ached at the sight, so beautiful it could bring a man to weep… just not from the eyes.

The plug finally popped free with a peaking groan from the man under him, and Slade let it simply drop to the floor before leaning down over Richard’s back, reaching around to grab his jaw and stuff a couple thick fingers into his mouth without warning.

Richard jerked and choked around them, but couldn’t move to fight them off without losing his balance and face-planting into the cement. Slade felt the slick heat of his tongue, the way that throat convulsed around his fingers with each choked gag as they were coated thickly with spit. It was only then that Slade pulled them free, leaving Richard coughing miserably. He might hate it now, but he’d be thanking Slade for it in a minute.

Slade used the wad of thick saliva to re-slick the way, driving his fingers deep into the clench of Richard’s body until they met and mixed with the release that Slade had filled him with prior, both running down the man’s cheeks and thighs.

Slade groaned in want at the sight, knowing he would only have more to add. He lined himself up, and buried himself in a fast stab of his cock, just as proficient as when he did the deed with a knife into an enemy. Just like then, Richard clenched up at the intrusion, a growled hiss escaping him. Slade pulled the man back on him, pressing them tight together to hold himself in as deep as he could go for just a few moments, savoring the feel.

Richard made a hitching noise, and it was then that Slade moved once more, driving in deep with each thrust, movements a series of sharp stabs into the man that left them both breathless and shaking.

The Gray Son of Gotham was incoherent with the noises he made, and Slade drank in each strangled moan of pleasure as much as each choked hitch of a sob. He could become drunk on such noises, moving his hips with the soul purpose of pulling more from the man.

It was his downfall, because he was too wrapped up in those responses. He was caught off guard at a vulnerable moment. Richard pulled a new stunt, letting go of the ground to swing his arms back into the crotch of Slade’s pants. They had been dropped on his thighs, so the hit to his balls wasn’t as direct as it could have been, but it was enough.

Richard tucked into the roll as he fell forward, allowing himself to tumble head over heels out of Slade’s hold, cock popping free of him with a squelch. Those Talon-eyes flashed with outrage, and he right-ended himself and lurched forward to try to attack Slade as he clutched at himself in pain.

Hands and legs occupied by cradling himself, Slade grunted as he was slammed into by the smaller man, who now was running on white hot adrenaline. They went down hard on the ground together, and for a moment, Slade could see in the man’s eyes that killer intent as his hands wrapped around his throat to squeeze. He wanted to kill him. He was set on doing so.

Slade snapped forward, slamming his forehead against Richard’s own with such force that it was half a wonder that it didn’t cave the other man’s skull in on itself. Richard grip went slack, barely hanging onto consciousness at all as Slade breathed through a few more deep aches of pain and rolled them over to pin down the stunned man beneath him. 

Not a bad trick, but he wouldn’t be caught by it twice, and he had a feeling that Richard was running out of them at this point to pull such a desperate move for potentially so little gain. It wasn’t as if Slade would just let him out of this room even if Richard did manage to somehow overcome him.

The noise the younger man made was truly a pathetic one as Slade gripped his hair and jerked his head up, his focus spinning. “I know you want to kill me, Talon. It’s natural. It’s what you do, who you are. I don’t begrudge you for it. One day you will prove unbelievably valuable to me because of that drive. I just want you to know that that’s not the reason you’re going to be punished. Your punishment is for your disobedience and defiance of the one person in this whole world that cares about you, that gives a damn about you, or ever will. Your defiance towards your master is what earns you punishment.”

To his credit, Richard looked neither scared nor further defiant of it. Perhaps it was partially due to the concussion he had to now have, but Slade didn’t think that was all it was. There was a certain amount of believing in Richard’s gaze as Slade pulled himself up off of him.

“Just remember Talon, you may fight against me, but you won’t win against me. And losing comes with consequences.”

He swung his leg forward, kicking into Talon’s stomach, and then it was just like it had been when he had been fucking him, a blur of movements and desire as he once more became lost in the many sounds and gasps pulled from the man with each blow.


	3. It's a Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Wilson's favorite thing about Father Wayne's church are his two eldest alter boys, without a doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't church good, so if it's inaccruate just have a chuckle and enjoy what you can.

Challenge: robin+robin+Slade

Its a sin 

The air of the old stone church was stifling and stale.

The heat was only harder to bear under the heavy black cassock that Father Wilson wore. It was all made even more difficult as at the podium Father Wayne delivered his sermon to the congregation, droning on and on in that deep baritone that nearly bored Slade to tears.

Even still, Slade passed through Gotham's parish whenever he could. It was always worth it.

Just when he needed it most, the back doors opened and Bruce's alter boys came in like a breath of fresh air in crisp robes of white to emphasize their purity.

The two eldest of his boys carried the holy torches, lighting the candles on the alter before putting them out and taking up kneeling positions upon the first dias step, hands reverently pressed together in prayer before them. Faces lifted but eyes downcast.

The younger two dropped off the wine and wafers before going to kneel on the other side, which was Slade's cue.  
He got up and took the bowl of Eucarist tokens, leaving the wine for Bruce to follow with as the man gave another blessing. He approached the eldest boy first, Dick. He was, and always had been, truely blessed in the physical sense, truely angelic with those soft locks the color of pitch and eyes as bright as stars.

He remained still as Father Wilson stood before him, and Slade was glad the cassock was as heavy as it was to hide the way it affected him to see the way the heat brought a flush to the younger man's face and sweat beaded the edges of his hairline. His eyes remained downcast and chaste as he opened his mouth and offered his tongue to Slade in waiting, ready to recieve.

Father Wilson smirked as he placed the wafer upon it, allowing the tip of one one his fingers to just barely brush the soft and spongy pink tongue. Dick's eyes flicked up to his as he brought the token into his mouth to slowly chew and swallow, face darkening even more as Slade watched him do so. A sly smile pulled around the corner of the boy's mouth as Slade moved on to Jason next.

Jason kept his hands reverently pressed before him, but his teal eyes snapped up to Slade right away, and there was something cheeky in his eyes as he stuck his tongue out and opened up just wide enough to be this side of vulgar, making fun because he didn't have to see under the cassock to know exactly how this affected the priest.

Slade smirked back and stuffed the wafer into the man's mouth quickly before anyone else could take notice. He'd make him show repentance for that later. For right now, he sobered and continued with the rest of the service.

X

He was hardly even listening, attention pulled by the stifling heat of the church, turning the confessional into little more than a pressure cooker. It was either this or do the face to face meet and greets after service with Father Wayne, however, and Slade stood by his sweatbox.

He pulled at the stiff collar of his heavy robe, but there was no give to be had, and no relief offered.

He was just wondering if he could possibly get away with disrobing right there in the priest's box when he was prompted by the confessor on the other side of the screen.

"Father Wilson? What should I do? I mean... I felt bad about the fact I took the turkey sandwich... but my coworker always has better lunches than me. What will absolve-

"Fifty Hail Mary's and donate forty hours to your local food bank. Give thanks to God for he is good," he huffed in irritation, making a quick cross as he leaned against the box.

The man on the other side hesitated, "Forty hours for a sandwich, father?"

Slade snapped a glare towards this man for already breaking his last nerve with this petty bullshit. "Is forty hours not worth avoiding a hellfire of eternal torment? Fifty hours."

The man stammered and recanted his complaint, rambling off a closing prayer back to Slade's prior one and beating a hasty exit.

Not even a minute after he had gone the confessional door opened again, and Slade let his sweaty forehead drop forward against the hard wood frame in front of him. Tasks like these were repentance enough for any sins he ever committed.

He hardly even registered the soft voice whispering through the confessional to him at first, catching "It's been three days since my last confession."

"And what do you confess?" He made himself ask.

"I confess to covetous thoughts."

That was a little more interesting at least. Stealing lunches from coworkers was a pretty low bar though.

"And what is it you covet?"

"I covet the visiting priest," came the simple answer.  
Slade turned to the confessional, and understanding came to him as that voice continued with an edge of a gleeful smile to it. Richard.

"I covet the fat cock Father Wilson has, and as he pressed the lord's flesh upon my tongue today I was thinking unholy thoughts about taking his own flesh instead. Of drinking down not wine, but his own elixir which comes from that flesh. I spent the rest of service hard beneith my robes and after I... it's too shameful... I dare not say."

He was being a shit. They both knew well how he could play. This was far from his first visit upon this parish. "You must open yourself to God. Never be afraid to open your mouth or anything else to me on his behalf, child," Slade mocked, a little smile pulling at the corners of his own lips.

He thought he heard the younger man chuckle, but it was covered as he started whispering silaciously again. "Father... afterwards I was in such a covetous and riled state that I cornered mine own brother, Jason, in the orphan's barracks and I exercised that lustful desire unto him. Such a filthy sin, Father!"

Wicked boy, Slade could hear the grin in those words, not a drop of remorse in them. Dick knew exactly what he was doing, and the effect it was having. The confessional became even hotter, contesting with brimstone all around him, but Slade paid it no heed now as he held his stiffened cock from under his cassock. "Filthy indeed, it will take a lot to attone-"

"But that's not even all of it, Father."

Wicked, wicked child. Slade took a deep breath in anticipation. "Oh? What else do you have to confess?"

"My sins upon Jason, as I lifted his white robes and he bent himself over mine own bed. We were hurried and impassioned, but even knowing it to be a sin he was just as eager as I to commit it. I opened him up with my tongue- where Fathers Wilson and Wayne had just placed the body and blood of Christ but minutes before, and I kept opening him up until words of praise for the almighty were falling from his lips, and then we coupled in sin. Hot, sweaty sin."

Slade had to stifle a laugh at that last bit tacked on.

"That a fact?"

"I swear to God."

Cheeky, but Slade was half rubbing himself through the heavy cassock at this point.

"How will I ever atone?" the boy lamented, laying it on thick like the shit he was.

"You'll have to get down on your knees and pray. Both of you. Pray for forgiveness, and offer yourselves up to God and his representatives. Open yourselves to his mercies."

"... here?"

Slade grinned and gave himself another squeeze.

"No, not here. Not now. Father Wayne's office, shortly after the other orphans have fallen asleep tonight. Think you both can manage that?"

There was a pause, a silence so profound Slade almost cursed thinking the brat had left him. But then that silacious whisper came again through the screen. "I'll come, Father, for you and your forgiveness I'll come. Jason too."

Slade had to pinch down on himself because that hushed promise nearly undid him.

Dick mumbled off the act of contrition, and Slade gave a half-hearted prayer of absolution before crossing himself and listening as the young man made his exit from the box. Slade was left with the heat of his lust and more than a few covetous thoughts of his own in mind.

He allowed his head to thunk back against the wood paneling behind him, a sly grin slashing its way across his face. "Praise be to God, for he is good."

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a tip in the form of kudos or review if you can, thank you


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